


One Crowded Hour

by carolinelamb



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Will, Bottom Will Graham, M/M, PWP, Semi-Public Sex, chillywilly, willton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinelamb/pseuds/carolinelamb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a post-Mizumono PWP in which Will Graham is a wanton little twink and Dr. Frederick Chilton doesn't object to give Will the fucking he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Crowded Hour

To Frederick spotting Will Graham in a gay bar feels almost like another slight, adding to the long list of humiliating slights he has already endured in the very recent past. He's been sure that Will is straight—not gay, not even bi. Frederick would think, as someone who has a strong preference for cock himself, he would be able to suss that preference out on others, even an unacknowledged one. (Admittedly when profiling Will Graham, he did not analyze his sexual orientation in depth.) He feels a sudden rush of anger, a sickening fury bubbling up inside him, shocking and slightly overwhelming as if Will Graham intentionally deceived him. 

Frederick has always liked to think of himself as someone in control of his emotions, but of course his recent experiences have disproved his notions. Right now he can’t even clearly identify the emotions rolling through him. He can only identify beyond doubt what he _doesn't_ feel for the other man. He doesn’t have much sympathy or affection for Will Graham. Or any friendly feelings.

After all Graham has played an intricate, complicated game and then lost himself in this game. This game has cost Frederick a liver, his left cheekbone, the feeling in his upper left palate (temporarily at least), part of his guts, his pride, his self-esteem.

He doesn’t feel hatred or fear (he used to fear Will Graham once, back when he was under his care at his hospital but even then it was a titillating, exciting fear, nothing like the dreadful horror he learned to associate Lecter with). 

Now a serial killer is on the run and Frederick will never will feel safe again. 

Maybe it isn’t entirely fair to pin all of this on Will Graham but Frederick thinks he has deserved the luxury of vindictiveness.

He averts his gaze which is actually hard to do—Graham is an unusally beautiful man, blessed with soulful, melancholic eyes, dark, elegantly curved lips, lips that always seem to be ready to curl into a slightly lopsided smile and a classically sculpted face. He turns away to duck into the crowd, but of course Will Graham has seen him. 

The superiority in Will Graham’s eyes, the way he lifts his chin, the way he looks _down_ at Frederick, similar to the way he did in the hospital, while playing cat and mouse with him, sparks a renewed, intense wave of anger in him, reminding him of the casual disrespect Graham used to bestow onto him.

Will Graham lays his head back in a mock-pensive gesture, then nods a greeting. Frederick nods back. Before he can turn away though, Will smiles, blinks slowly like a cat and looks him up and down. For a second Frederick misunderstands the look on Will’s face for mockery, but then Will sharply tilts his head towards the toilet.

It's an unmistakeable message but Frederick is frozen with shock. Firstly, he is not used to pro-longed eye contact from Will Graham. Pro-longed intentional, non-hesitant eye-contact.

Secondly, Will Graham just propositioned him.

Graham rolls his eyes at Frederick's obtusiveness, then jerks his head towards the toilet. It reminds Frederick more of a man challenging him to a fistfight than an invitation to a tryst.

Before he has made up his mind he is already moving forward through the crowd. Graham waits for him at the entrance to the hallway leading to the toilet, then walks in front of him.

Frederick grabs Will Graham’s neck, pulls him around and kisses him hard on his lips. He lets go of his walking stick, which clatters against the wall, snakes his arm around the other man.

Will Graham doesn’t stop him. He parts his lips and pulls him closer, embracing him, pushing himself against Frederick. It feels affectionate, that movement, although the entire encounter is anything but.

Abruptly Will Graham pulls away, a wry grin twitching around the corners of his mouth.

“Do you want to _fuck_?” 

He spits the question out with a hateful grimace. At least that’s what Frederick thinks it is.

Frederick blinks, unprepared for Will Graham’s sudden crudeness. Graham always appeared to him as someone who could swear but blush at the proper, sexual use as a verb of the word „fuck“. 

He nods, feeling dizzy and lightheaded now. 

Graham smirks, as if he means to say, “Thought so,” then opens the toilet door and pulls Frederick in with him. Frederick manages just in time to snatch his stick. The first stall is occupied, the second is flooded, only the third one is fortunately vacant and dry.

The moment he locks the door, Will deftly unzips Frederick’s trousers and pulls out his already half-hard cock, stroking it to hardness. Frederick can’t help but notice how skilled Will is, as if giving hand jobs is something he does every day. 

Will pushes him against the door, sinks onto his knees and without much further ado licks his shaft, takes his cock into his mouth and sucks, moaning hungrily. He looks up at Frederick through long lashes, a strange, little, cat-like smile playing on his lips. Not only does Will Graham suck cock like a fucking pro, he seems to really, really like it—he is grinding his own erection against Frederick’s shin. 

When Frederick thinks it can’t get much better, Will bestows another half-lidded look onto him, then grabs his hips, and pushes him even deeper into his mouth. The tip of his cock is sliding into Will’s tight, hot throat now, and fucking hell, Frederick claws at the cold stall door to stave off his orgasm. 

Tears are glistening on Will’s pale face, but he continues to suck Frederick’s cock with remarkable enthusiasm. God, it has to be said, Will looks beautiful with cock in his mouth and tears on his face.

Before Frederick can come, Will pulls off slowly, again looking up at him with this insufferable, triumphant smirk, as if he knows something Frederick doesn’t. 

Dazed Frederick looks down at his glistening, wet cock. A string of saliva connects its tip to Will Graham's swollen lips.

They negotiate their roles without words—Graham gets up, pulls his trousers down, revealing pale, muscular buttocks. He takes Frederick’s hand and puts it unsubtly on his ass.

Frederick doesn’t top much, but the idea of fucking Will Graham’s tight hole is appealing, and he squeezes, rubs his palm over perfectly rounded, but small cheeks, letting his thumb graze the cleft. 

Will Graham levels his half-lidded, feline gaze at Frederick, then turns around, braces himself against the wall with one arm. Frederick moves his hand underneath Graham’s jacket, feeling over the sweater, then slips his fingers under the next layer. The feeling of Graham’s warm skin is intoxicating. When he strokes his ribs, lets his touch wander downwards, Will’s hand suddenly covers his, stops him from moving further down.

Frederick understands. This encounter is to forget the scars they are bearing not to be reminded of them. He moves his hand upwards, away from the scar, and Will relaxes.

When Frederick starts kneading his ass cheeks, pushing them apart to reveal the furled hole between them, Will lets out a guttural, surprisingly loud moan. As if he is sating a need that has been festering for a long, long time in his body. He wantonly moves against Frederick’s hands, egging him on in a wordless manner.

Will Graham wants this. He craves this. The way he displays himself, his back arched like a cat in heat, his naked ass pushing up, there can be no doubt.

Frederick tears the sachet with the lube open and finger-fucks Will, distributing the clear gel around and inside his hole, and Will whines loudly. A public toilet stall is not the place to take his sweet time, but Frederick cannot resist to tease and torture Will. He only gives him a digit, caressing the sensitive rim until Will howls. He stills, then inserts another finger, goes deeper. Will contorts his upper body in a futile attempt to get more of Frederick’s fingers into him. Frederick smiles at the sight. When he expertly crooks his finger in a come hither motion Will thanks him with a grateful sob.

„Finally something you’re good at, _doctor_ ,“ he bites out, apparently unable to let go of his antagonism even in the throes of passion. Frederick, as a way of answering, pushes harder against Will’s sweet spot, then pulls out again, smugly observing Will’s desperate writhing.

The condom is a bit tight, and hard to roll down his shaft. He squeezes the rest of the lube onto the tip, smearing it over the glans, then pushes against Will’s entrance, who gasps in pleasure, claws at the cold tiles.

“Fuck yesss,” he hisses, and Frederick breaches him. The initial resistance of Will’s hole feels mind numbingly good, the hot tightness, the grip of the sphincter. Then Will relaxes, moans loader and begins to move in earnest, fucking himself hard on Frederick’s cock. 

Before tonight Frederick never thought Will Graham would be loud and vocal during sex. He’d have assumed (not that he has actively thought of it of course) that Will bites his lips and silently gasps his pleasure. The fact that Will shamelessly cries out, moans like a whore is exceedingly satisfying. He’s begging for more and harder, so loud in fact that Frederick has to shush him at times. The fact they’re having sex in a _public_ toilet does not faze Will Graham, even when the toilet door opens and the noise from the bar spills inside for a moment. Someone is taking a piss. 

Maybe Will enjoys being heard, the little slut.

Frederick feels as if he will dissolve any minute into Will’s welcoming hot body. With one hand he reaches forward, stroking Will’s flank underneath his clothes. He feels so warm, so alive. Frederick hates himself a little for cherishing the way Will presses himself into his touch, as if he cares.

He finds Will’s nipples and begins to toy with them. Will’s moans turn into hoarse cries. Ah, sensitive. He pinches and teases them into stiff peaks. He takes Will’s cock in his hand, hard and heavy, and wet with pre-cum. When Frederick thrusts again, another string leaks out and Will starts shaking uncontrollably.

Suddenly, much too soon it seems to Frederick, Will begins to spasm around his cock. Frederick marvels at Will coming undone by his thrusts.

„Fuck,“ he moans, fucking himself even harder onto Frederick’s cock, as if he can’t get enough of it. Briefly Frederick thinks he should top more often—he loves being inside Will. His entire body is pulsating with pleasure, every sound Will makes, goes straight to his cock. Fucking Will Graham to orgasm is the best thing he has ever done. Making Will want this cock, making him whine and beg and shudder in wanton pleasure feels like the singularly most satisfying achievement to date.

„Oh fuck, I’m coming,“ Will grits out, trembling. Finally his already tight hole clamps down on Frederick’s cock. Will lets out a long wail, as he comes, gasping for breath, spurting thick cum onto the wall and the flush before him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the guy outside remarks, but before they can tell him to fuck off, they hear the sound of the toilet door being opened and closed again. Frederick doesn’t still in his movements. After all this _is_ a gay club, although they do have to exercise a minimum of caution. 

Will laughs breathlessly. It’s a beautiful sound, but Frederick ignores the thought for now and focusses on finishing.

Frederick pulls William, who has gone limp, up and fucks into him with renewed vigor, chasing his own release. Will whines, but bravely puts up with Frederick’s mad pace, the ferocity of his thrusts, even eggs him on. After a few minutes, Frederick feels his orgasm in his balls, his thighs, feels the pressure, familiar but so much stronger.

“Will,” he manages to groan, (and it’s too late to curse himself for slipping up and coming with his name on his lips, for not censoring himself quickly enough) then wave after wave of pleasure floods him. He shoots his come into Will’s ass and Will takes it, moaning, pushing against him as if he can’t get enough of cock, of Frederick’s cock. He feels it pulsing inside Will, and Will clenches tightly around him like a vise, eyes closed, lips parted. 

After a while Frederick pulls out, careful to hold on to the condom, then slides it off his dick and throws it into the toilet. Will dresses himself with slow, deliberate movements.

For a moment they look at each other, not sure how to proceed. Fucking is easy. Anything else not so much.

Will finally clears his voice. 

“Not bad,” he says, averting his eyes in his typical manner. Frederick likes how his voice breaks a little at the end. 

Will leans against the cubicle wall, looking debauched with his flushed cheeks and messy curls. 

Frederick zips his trousers up, tucks his shirt into the waistband. He realizes he is stalling now. He feels a nearly physical reluctance to say goodbye to Will.

There is still this tiny, idiotic part in him wishing for Will to simply _like_ him. 

As Frederick adjusts his jacket and grabs his walking stick, Will takes his face into both his hands and forces him to look into his eyes. Frederick can feel Will’s gaze scan him, strip him bare within moments, and at first mortified, then angry he pushes Will away.

„It’s just a fuck, for God’s sake,“ he says but the tender expression on Will’s face unsettles him.

„I haven’t been fucked that well in a long time,“ Will tells him, „why don’t you come by my house next week and we fuck in my bed? It’s more comfortable for both of us.“

Frederick pretends to take time to consider the suggestion, then nods his agreement.

Will smiles, then kisses him.

„See you next week then,“ he says, before slipping out of the stall.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the rather sentimental song [One Crowded Hour"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LejMbZjZUvk) by Augie March.


End file.
